


those eyes used to know me

by thejoyofliving



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Exes to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pining, Smut, brief mention of Harry's ex wife, brief mention of paid phone sex literally two sentences, harry has a daughter, they are in their 30's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26566057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejoyofliving/pseuds/thejoyofliving
Summary: Left turn then right. One, two, three.Blue eyes.Sharp intake of breath.Harry couldn’t breathe. There was pain, sharp and agonizing, finding its way from the middle of his chest, spreading to his hands, his legs, his head. Harry couldn’t breathe.“Harry?” Louis asked.Or: Harry hasn’t seen Louis in ten years and Louis is still as beautiful as the first time they met.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 83
Collections: Fine Line Fic Fest





	those eyes used to know me

**Author's Note:**

> I was a train wreck while I was writing this and I refuse to apologise for it  
>   
> many many thanks to my wonderful beta [winddie](https://winddie.tumblr.com/) who was incredibly helpful and encouraging and without them I would have never finished this  
>   
> this fic is based on Harry’s song Canyon Moon  
>   
> This fic was written for the [Fine Line Fic Fest](https://finelineficfest.tumblr.com//). Make sure you check out all the other great fics in the collection which can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FineLineFicFest//)!  
>   
>  **Disclaimer:** pure 100% fiction, seriously, I made everything up
> 
> title from the song Giants by Dermot Kennedy

It was Thursday the 23rd. And Thursday means that Harry had to sit for three hours listening to his new intern James went on and on about one of his new ideas about how the company could expand. It was not like Harry didn’t want it to expand, he did, he always welcomed any new propositions for charities they could work with next, it's just that James had the most ridiculous unrealistic plans. However, James was a nephew of Harry's business partner and he was just too polite to tell him he sucked so he had to spend three agonizingly long hours listening to James speak.

At six, Harry smiled at his secretary as he headed to the lift, briefcase in hand filled with weekend work. The lift took him to the first floor, annoying pop-y song on the radio blasting in the small space, a tune Harry knew he couldn’t stand but would for sure be humming along in the car ride home. Harry straightened his white open shirt as he stepped out of the lift and exited the building. The cool evening breeze hit him in the face and he was reminded why that was his favorite part of the day: stepping outside, looking around and appreciating where he was, what he had managed to achieve, knowing the next few hours were only his own and he could do what he wanted. 

Harry loved his job. At age 30, he managed to have his own company, _Mellow Love_ , an organization that works with charities and non-profit organizations, helping them run events and work efficiently so they can best utilize their funds. When he thought about the company, Harry could remember how hard it was to get anyone to trust them at the beginning when no one to want to work with them. And so, he tried to remember every day, as he stepped out of the building, how grateful he was to be where he was, and how hard he had worked for it.

On his way home, Harry stopped to get his usual order of Chinese – chicken katsu bento and curry fries, trying to pretend like it had not been the third night that week that he was having that, telling himself that he would definitely start cooking again, that he would certainly make an effort next time.

At eight, he sat on the couch, unlocked his phone, and dialed Jenny.

On the third ring, he was greeted with a scream.

“Daddy!”

“Hi, princess,” Harry beamed into the phone. “How are you doing?”

“Good, daddy! Mrs. D said that I was very good today so mum let me have ice cream when we came home!” Liv exclaimed into the phone and Harry could practically hear her jumping up and down.

"Oh yeah? What flavor did you choose?"

And Harry knew he did not have it all. He knew he worked too much, ate takeout more often than not, and spent most of his nights consumed by loneliness, wishing there was someone to hold him, but this, hearing his daughter call him daddy and excitedly talk about her day, this was something no one could take away from him. This was something worth living for.

  


-

  


Six o'clock that following Friday, Harry found himself pulling up into the driveway of 26 Lenton Road. His eyes roamed around the interior of the house, noting the new potted plant next to the main door. Pink lilies, Jenny's favorite. Harry couldn't help but smile to himself as he exited his car, stuffing his phone in his pocket as he did. _One, two, three_. He had been to this house countless times and those three exact steps that it took from his vehicle were his little reminder of what was about to come. Every other weekend, every other Friday at 8, he’d walk down the short paved road. Sometimes, it'd be quiet, the only other noise he could hear was the wind ruffling through the tree above him. Sometimes it'd be noisy, a neighbor driving past or unloading heavy bags from their trunk. Other times, Liv could be heard singing in the living room through the open window or screaming in the back garden. Harry had gotten so accustomed to that three-step walk and some days it was the only thing that kept him going; knowing that the next Friday would come, knowing that he would have his small human to entertain for whole three days; knowing that her little voice made the hole in his chest a little bit fuller.

Harry lifted his arms and knocked on the door. _One, two, three._ Rapid footsteps could be heard coming from the right of the house; Harry smiled before the door was even open – he knew who those little feet belong to and he could practically see Liv running from the kitchen to greet him. He was proven right, of course, the door swinging open with one rapid movement, small hands wrapping around his legs before he even had the chance to blink.

"Daddy!”

Awkwardly bending so he could wrap his hands around her little body, Harry let himself get lost in the moment, in the feeling of her smile against his legs and the warmth radiating from her body.

“Hi, baby! I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered into her hair, breathing in the familiar smell. He straightened up and looked down to see her already looking at him, eyes big and twinkling, fringe messy.

"I got a new doll, Daddy!" She unwrapped herself from him, catching his hand in hers and tugged him towards the kitchen.

Harry could see Jenny sitting on the table, mumbling a quick hello as he passed by. Liv sat him on the couch and started telling him about her new dancer doll. Harry listened to her, taking in her sparkling eyes and her high-pitched voice, and couldn’t help but beam.

An hour later, he opened the door to his car, balancing Liv on one hip and carrying her bag in the other. He put her in the car seat, made sure she was properly strapped in and closed the door.

“She is invited to a birthday party tomorrow at 4, yeah?” Jenny said, and he looked up to see her leaning on the door frame, one hip popped up. "I've already packed a present in her bag, and I'll text you the address. I know it's your weekend," she smiled apologetically. "But I know she would love to go, and you can stay with her for the duration of the party.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgment, "Yeah, of course, I want her to have fun." 

He got into the driver’s seat of the Range Rover, sneaking a glance at Liv in the rearview mirror only to find her already looking at him. "Ready?" he asked.

On the drive to his apartment, Harry listened to Liv talk about her day, trying to suppress his yawns. It was not that he was not interested in what she had to say, it was just that his day had been full of meetings and if he could just get that goddamn David to see his point and realize what he should do, life would be so much easier. But he couldn’t force people to see things, Harry had realized years ago, he could only give his best reasoning and let them think of their own. He had never been good at manipulating, could never deceive people like that so he resorted to giving his best and letting people do as they pleased.

They ate the pasta Harry had picked up earlier that day, watched _Aristocats_ for the hundredth time (Harry knew all the lines by heart at that point but who was he to complain) and at nine, Harry tucked Liv in, read her the story about that rabbit and that duck that he couldn't for the life of him ever remember the name of, and with a kiss on her forehead, he closed the door to her room. 

At eleven, Harry found himself in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He really should go to bed, they had an exciting day and Liv would probably wake up at 7 anyway, overly excited for the birthday, jumping on his bed demanding breakfast. And _fuck_ , Harry had Liv over. He needed to sleep. He needed to close his eyes and count sheep and just go to sleep.

So he tried, he thought of calm clouds, he thought of happy memories, green grass, and soft touches. _Fuck_.

Harry reached out for his phone on the nightstand. He unlocked it, rough fingers swiping on the smooth screen. He brought it to his ear, and he hated himself even more. He could hear the ringing sound. _One, two, three._

“Hi, gorgeous! Looking for some fun tonight?”

  


-

  


The sun was blasting way too hot for Harry's liking. He had always preferred the cold weather, true British man he was, and he could feel the way his shirt was sticking to his body. He missed autumn, he missed the gloomy days and the cold breeze.

Harry could hear the loud screaming of children even before he pulled up in the driveway. Liv squeaked in the back seat, excitement radiating, bouncing on her seat. Harry stopped the car slowly, twisting in his seat to look at the little girl in the back seat. He smiled at her, listening to her gush about how excited she was for the party, for seeing her friends and playing with them. 

“Daddy, c’mon, let’s go," she whined loudly, drawing out the last sound. Harry sighed and opened the door to get out of the car.

Harry loved children, he loved playing with them and taking care of them, watching them fascinatedly trying to understand the world around them. Sometimes he even had those moments, looking around, wondering what was the point of all of those things, what was the point of existing, of breathing and living and god, what was the point of thinking. Harry was pretty sure the children weren't actually thinking the same things as he was, but oh well, it was still exploring the world, sort of. Harry loved children in general, just not when there were forty of them in one relatively small place surrounded by about the same number of parents, mostly mothers, who only talked about how great their kids were. Which, Harry was sure they were truly wonderful, but the whole scenario felt a bit… unnecessary for him to be a part of.

Harry had a second to put down Liv before she was running ahead, shouting her friend's name. Knowing he was already forgotten by his daughter, he got her bag out of the car, hoping to be able to leave as fast as he could.

“Harry!” a loud voice echoed, and Harry turned around to see one of the mums walking towards him, smile beaming. “How lovely to see you, Harry! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Harry matched her smile with one of his own, eyes warm.

“Hi, Soph. I am just dropping Liv off," he said, arm raising to show the bag on his hand, hoping they were going to let him go easily.

“Of course, how is she?” she exclaimed, her eyes never leaving his dimple. “Come in, you have to meet all the parents.”

And Harry knew there was no way they were going to let him leave anytime soon.

Four hours and way too many glasses of orange juices later (because he never drank when he had Liv), Harry was sitting in the kitchen with six other parents talking about the recent changes in the curriculum.

"I just think that it's ridiculous what they want to do!" one of the fathers barked. Harry was not sure what his name was, they had had never been properly introduced.

"Do they think we are some kind of robots that can do everything?" his face had turned red, mouth, and eyes screwed in an ugly expression. Harry did not like that man. “It’s their job to teach them these things!”

Someone else started talking and Harry decided he could not care less about what they had to say. He used to get really worked up over those kinds of discussions, passionately trying to explain his points and made other people see the faults in their thinking. He had long lost that thought, there was no space in his mind that was worth filling in with those feelings, with that rage to make other people see his point, to prove himself. There was no place for those feeling in his heart or his mind anymore. He had decided they weren't worth it. Laughing was worth it. Warmth. Compliments. Love. Those were worth having in your heart.

Harry quietly got up from his place, catching one of the mum’s eyes and smiling kindly at her. Some of the other parents had already left with their children and he was hoping he’d be able to do the same soon.

His head was pounding, and he reached to rub two fingers on his temple in hope of easing the dull pain. Filling up his glass with water, Harry headed to the garden. Maybe looking at the sunset was going to be the cure to the ache behind his eyes.

Long corridor, family photos on both sides of the wall, messy drawing by the kids. Left turn then right. One, two, three.

Blue eyes.

Sharp intake of breath.

Harry couldn't breathe. There was pain, sharp and agonizing, finding its way from the middle of his

chest, spreading to his hands, his legs, his head. Harry couldn’t breathe.

“Harry?” Louis asked.

The world around Harry slowly stopped spinning and Harry was finally able to see clearly. Sharp

cheekbones, soft skin, blue eyes. Harry realized he was holding his breath and slowly released it.

Unable to come up with something to say, suddenly unable to find and form words, Harry felt like his brain-mind was on fire. He could feel the throbbing in his head, the noise in his ears, the hot flashes in his body. Louis. Louis was here, Louis was standing in front of him, his gorgeous Louis, tanned skin, and fluffy hair that Harry could feel under his fingers as if he were touching it right now.

“Hi,” Harry mumbled into the silence. “What are you doing here?”

Louis' body was stiff, unmoving, eyes unable to meet Harry's, "I'm picking up Lottie's daughter."

“In London?” Harry couldn’t stop his head spinning, heart in his throat.

Louis swallowed, hand coming up to swipe his fringe back. “Yeah, I’ve moved here a couple of months ago.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry couldn’t look away.

Louis took a deep breath, gaze looking up, locking eyes with Harry. Louis exhaled and looked away, “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Harry’s eyes winded and before he could think of something to say, Louis had started walking. Harry angled his body away and Louis walked past him, eyes never meeting his. And then he was gone like he had never been here.

  


  


  


The thing was that Louis had changed. Harry could see the wrinkles around his eyes, the soft stubble, the grey hairs. ‘I’m going to get grey at thirty, Haz,’ Harry can remember Louis moaning. ‘I’m going to be thirty and grey, what kind of bullshit is this?’. Something about his genes, he used to say, his dad had become completely grey by the age of thirty and Louis was certain that was also going to happen to him. It had, to some extent, Harry noted. He could see grey hairs among the brown fringe but nothing as extreme as once Louis had feared.

Harry had been so stunned by Louis' beauty the first time he saw him, that he felt as if his brain had frozen, the world had started spinning and the only thing that mattered was Louis' blue eyes. Or that’s what Harry liked to say, anyway. Maybe the reality had been less appealing, blue eyes meeting green in a crowded bar. But Harry could dream, couldn't he? He had always been hopelessly romantic, Louis used to say while they were curling up in bed, and Harry was telling endless stories of all the dates he planned on taking Louis to, one hand lazily stroking his back, nose being buried in his messy hair. The truth was, Harry had felt as if Louis was the only person in that room when their eyes locked, but honestly, who could blame him for painting the memory a little bit brighter than it actually was when whenever he would tell that story, Louis would grin and duck his head, shy laughs escaping his lips even if he claimed he knew Harry was bullshitting. Harry had let Louis take him home that night, wandering hands and rushed kisses turned into soft strokes and sweet whispers, and Harry knew he was a goner.

Harry was supposed to leave Paris the next morning, early train to Brussels but he was woken up with light kisses pressed to his chest, soft hair tickling him along the way. Harry decided that the train could wait. Later that day, Louis agreed to change his route to join Harry on his journey to Rome. They spent the next two weeks wrapped around each other, exploring cities neither of them had seen before and later exploring each other. Harry found himself having late breakfasts in small old cafes, eating way too many scones, drinking way too much tea, but holding Louis' hand throughout it all. He found himself wondering along narrow alleys, looking at beautiful old monuments, museums, statues, looking at Louis. Drinking in the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, memorizing the way he swept his hair, immersing himself in the way he laughed.

Harry had cried when they parted ways in Rome, tears streaming down his face, vision blurry but he held Louis through it. He tried to remember the way his body felt wrapped around him, the soft hands rubbing his back, the feeling of his breath on his neck. They had promised each other that they would meet again, that they would each find a way to fit the other into their lives, that this was not the end. Harry had promised he'd call.

  


  


  


An hour later, Harry was standing on the patio, iced tea in hand, his head still throbbing, nothing clearer than earlier. He felt a gaze on him, a tall figure approaching from his left, and Harry looked up despite his urge not to. Louis.

Louis was just a few feet away from Harry, so close that Harry could reach out and touch his face if he wanted. And Harry wanted. Harry wanted Louis after all these years, after all this time. But Louis was not his anymore and Harry had no right to want him.

“How long have you been in town?” Louis wondered, hand going up to fix his fringe. Louis had never been nervous around him before, but Harry could easily guess that was what it was, a nervous gesture. Harry's chest ached.

"A couple of years now," Harry put his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. "I moved here a couple of years ago. And you?"

Louis glanced away from Harry and released a breath. Harry hadn’t even noticed how his intense glare was making him feel until it was gone. "Couple of months. Got transferred here in February."

“What do you do then?” Harry asked.

“I run a program," a quiet laugh escaped Louis’ lips. "A program for parents with children with disabilities. We run all kinds of programs, I mean not me, the company does. I just run this one.”

It seemed that at least Louis' ability to ramble hadn’t changed, Harry noted in his head. "That's really good, Lou."

"I mean, it's not a big deal but it's nice," Louis shrugged, still not meeting Harry's eyes.

"It is, though," Harry smiled. "It is a really big deal. What you're doing is really nice." And Harry found himself actually meaning it, could feel the pride in his chest even though he knew he had no right to feel that anymore.

“Thanks, that's, uh, that's nice of you to say," Louis said, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“So what are you doing here?" Louis asked when the silence stretched between them for too long.

“I’m here with Liv,” and at Louis’ arched eyebrow in question, he continued. “My daughter.”

Louis’ mouth opened in a silent gasp and Harry realized a beat too late what he'd said. Louis didn’t know about his daughter. Louis thought Harry was gay. Louis didn’t know because Louis hadn’t been in Harry’s life for the last ten years. Louis didn’t know.

And with that, Harry had the sudden realization that Louis didn’t know anything about his life anymore. He didn’t know Harry anymore. And Harry didn’t know Louis. He didn’t know what he does, who he is, he didn’t know if he still drinks three cups of tea a day or if he still doesn’t wear socks with his shoes. Harry didn’t know Louis because they hadn’t seen each other for ten years.

Harry felt like it’s only been moments.

"Oh," Louis responded after a moment, eyes still wild. Harry could see him swallow then lick his lips. “Right, well, I better get going then. It was nice seeing you,” he finally looked Harry in the eyes, hand coming up to swipe his fringe off his face.

“Yeah,” Harry exhaled. “It’s been nice seeing you.”

Harry moved to the side for Louis to pass by him, angling his body away so they didn't touch, just like before. And with that, Louis was gone. Just like he had come. Fuck.

  


-

  


Seeing Louis dug out pieces of Harry’s heart that he had buried deep inside him – piles and piles of memories, feelings and thoughts that Harry had hoped he'd never have to experience again. Harry had always been open about liking boys. He had known it since he was fourteen years old when his friend Johnny had tried to hold his hand in the park, and Harry'd felt butterflies in his stomach. It's not like he had ever hidden it, per se, but it had taken him a few years to get used to that idea and finally be open at twenty-one. Harry had realized that he couldn't change who he was, couldn't stop fancying boys and girls, so he just accepted it, decided that it was fine, went on with his life just like that, and soon realized that most people didn't bat an eyelash when they found out, that all of the demons in his head had been just his and no one else's.

But seeing Louis reminded Harry of the way his heart used to skip a beat whenever he'd see Louis across the room, of the love that used to feel like it was burning down his throat, suffocating him. Of course, those feelings had come later. At first, it had been love, pure gut-filling warm love that made your whole body tingle. But once they had parted ways, once Harry had a chance to breathe, a chance to think, that feeling changed in a blink of an eye.

“Harry? Your appointment at five is here.”

“Tell them I’ll be just a moment,” Harry replied to his assistant, eyes not leaving his computer screen.

It had been a long day and Harry was about ready to leave everything and have a cup of tea in front of the TV. He knew better than to accept a meeting that late in the afternoon, but the lady sounded so passionate about her work with children with disabilities that Harry couldn't say no. The thing was that Harry was exhausted – he had barely slept the last three weeks. Work had been hectic, projects after projects and when Harry finally got in bed around eleven, he couldn't stop thinking about Louis. Louis, who had pretty blue eyes and soft hair, and who once used to be his.

Harry had always trusted his gut and this time it was telling him that he was going to see Louis again.

  


-

  


It happened two days after. Harry was on his way out of the Chinese place right next to his building when he saw him.

Louis was laughing at something, hands buried in his black blazer pockets. He was walking next to a taller bloke who Harry did not recognize. Louis looked happy, Harry thought, carefree.

As if hearing his thoughts, Louis looked up, grin freezing. Louis and his whoever-that-was stopped in front of a shop with a flashing non-stop sign on its door. Harry shook himself out of his frozen state and walked to Louis just as he was lighting a cigarette, his companion getting inside.

“I never thought I'd see you wearing a button-up,” Harry found himself saying.

Louis tilted his head up in exhale, “And I never thought I’d see you again.”

Harry inhaled. “You smoking again?”

“I never stopped.”

“I thought you did.”

“And I thought you’d call,” Louis smiled.

Harry could see Louis close his eyes and look down. “My mum used to say that I had my grandpa’s eyes,” Louis had said once after Harry had finished leaving tiny kisses around them.

Louis pinched the tip of his nose with his index finger, taking a drag of the lit cigarette. “How old is she?”

“Six in November.”

Louis nodded, “She looks like you.”

“She’s got her mother’s eyes.”

Louis looked up, “Still with her then?”

“No.”

Louis' companion opened the door of the shop and came up to stand beside him. Louis nodded, “Not surprised.”

On his way home, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the way the light in Louis’ eyes had dimmed once their eyes had met.

  


-

  


The second time they met was only three days after. It was lunchtime and Harry was on his way to pick up some pastries from the café two blocks down from his office. Louis was sitting on a table outside right near the entrance. This time Harry wasn't sure if it was a good idea to acknowledge him, so he ducked his head and busied himself with his phone.

“Pretending you don’t know me now, are you?” Louis’ voice cut off an octave louder than the chatter around them. He was having a chocolate chip biscuit and tea, Harry noted. ‘Coffee disgusts me, Harreh, how does anyone even drink that?’ Harry remembers Louis saying the first morning they had spent together.

“Didn’t know if you’d want me to,” Harry shrugged. “Didn’t seem to want to talk with me last time.”

Louis started dragging his finger along the rim of his mug. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind,” he looked up, eyes finding Harry’s. Louis lifted his hand, gesturing towards the empty chair next to him. “Wanna sit?”

Harry knew he had only half an hour before he had to be back at the office, he knew there was a client coming in exactly thirty-five minutes from now who hated when people were late. “Sure.”

He went inside to order his coffee and two hazelnut pastries, head feeling dizzy and too hot. He had once known Louis so well but now, now he couldn't figure him out. Harry didn't know why Louis wanted to talk after he had been so cold the last time they talked, but he could hear the heartbeat in his ears whenever Louis opened his mouth so he was determined to find out.

“What are you doing here then?” Louis had asked once Harry was back at the table.

“I work just two blocks down,” Harry replied, hands coming to cup his coffee. The warmth was grounding. “I come here most days, really, it’s nice.”

Louis was holding his mug in both hands raised above the table, elbows resting on the wooden surface. “Yeah,” he absently nodded. “I’ve never been here but it seems nice enough.”

“Your office around here then?”

“Sort of,” Louis pointed his head to the left. “It’s about twenty minutes from here. Just fancied a walk, I guess.”

Harry could just nod. Louis sounded exhausted.

“You caught me by surprise the other day. At the birthday party,” Louis continued, bringing his mug down, hands coming up to touch the flowerpot at the center of the table. "I didn't expect I'll see you ever again if I'm being honest."

Harry lifted his hand to sweep his hair back – he had forgotten to put it in a bun today and the long locks had been falling in his eyes all day. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you as well. I figured you’d be somewhere in Paris, being a famous designer and all that.”

‘I am going to make it, Haz,’ Louis had whispered in the middle of the night on their third night together. ‘One day I’ll put these big shows in Paris, and everyone will see what I’m capable of.’

Louis chuckled bitterly, “Yeah, well, that didn’t happen, did it?”

“I’m sorry, Lou.”

“No, no,” Louis shook his head. “It’s fine. That dream was too big anyway, wasn’t it?” Harry could see his eyes focusing somewhere far in the distance. “It still worked out, didn’t it? Life, I mean. I enjoy what I’m doing and I’m making a difference. It’s good.”

“Yeah it is, Lou. It really is,” Harry replied in a steady voice and leaned forward. “What you are doing is great. You are helping people, Lou. You are helping people who need it and making their lives better. That’s so so good.”

Louis’ lips curved in a small smile and he looked down at his mug again, “Thanks. That means a lot.”

“So what happened?”

“It just… it just didn’t work out, I guess,” Louis shrugged, shoulders slagging. “I mean, I did a few shows and I booked some nice models. At some point, I even got a photoshoot in a magazine and I thought that that was going to be it, you know? It was going to be my big break,” Louis finally met his eyes and Harry found himself nodding. "But it wasn't. Nothing happened after that and one day I decided I've had enough, and I quit. I had been trying for so long and nothing was happening, so I just thought what's the point and I just gave up. I left and I found this job and I decided that if I can't do what I really love, I can at least help people who need it, you know? Make a difference for someone."

Harry had forgotten how blue Louis’ eyes were. “You made a great choice. You are helping people and that’s pretty noble if you ask me.”

That got a proper chuckle out of Louis and gosh, Harry had once loved that laugh.

"You are still full of it, aren’t you?” Louis laughed. “Who even says stuff like that?”

Harry smiled, "It made you smile though, didn't it?”

Harry could see Louis freeze for a second, his whole body getting stiff and Harry wished he could slap himself. Louis composed himself rather quickly, lifting his mug to take a sip and clearing his throat.

“So I wanted to apologize for being a mess when we met,” Louis muttered. “I made a right tit of myself but I… I was just surprised, you know?”

Harry knew, "Yeah, me too, I really did not expect that," He swallowed, suddenly a lump in his throat. "It was nice though. I am glad I saw you. I am glad I am seeing you now too."

Louis took another sip of his tea. "Yeah, me too."

And this time, when they parted ways, Harry could not recall Louis' eyes ever being cold. All he could remember was warmth and blue.

  


-

  


Three weeks later, Harry opened his eyes to a message of Louis on his phones. He still couldn't believe how he even got that, how Louis had agreed to give him his number after everything Harry had done. After all the pain he had caused.

_who let those stupid americans drive on the right side of the road?? how stupid is that?_

Harry could remember Louis had the same frustration when they were in Rome ‘Who decided that’s a good idea, Haz?’ he had sneered one afternoon when a taxi had almost run him over, “Who in their right mind would want to drive on the right side of the road?”

**the whole rest of the world, I think.**

Harry was already on his way to work when his phone beeped again: _everyone is stupid then what the fuck_

**what are you doing in america anyway?**

_conference for three days_

**are you staying in one of those fancy hotels then?**

_yea proper posh, feel like a right chav next to all those people_

**hope your conference isn’t too boring**

_it’s actually quite nice_

Harry hadn't heard from Louis since that last lunch message. He knew it was kind of his fault for not responding and he remembered Louis saying how double texting was pathetic but still. He had no idea what to say. His head was just as messy as it had been the time they had sat in that coffee, but this time even more feeling had surfaced. The little pain in his chest that used to seek Louis every second of every day had come back even still a bit quieter. Harry knew he couldn't stay away even if he tried, he knew Louis would just pull him and pull him like a magnet until Harry didn't have any space in his chest for anything else but Louis. And Harry knew Louis wasn't doing it on purpose, probably wasn't even aware of the fact that he had that effect on Harry.

**when are you back?**

_Wednesday afternoon if no one kidnaps me_

**want to have dinner with me on Friday?**

_why?_

**why did you text me?**

_okay_

**I will have liv, that ok?**

_yeah_

  


-

  


At eight o'clock on Friday, Harry was sitting on the floor in his sitting room watching Liv and Louis color.

“Do you want to draw something for your dad?” Louis asked giving his red pencil to Liv’s awaiting hands.

Liv shook her head. “No. I’ll draw a house.”

“Okay but after that, how about something for dad? I’m sure he will love to have something to put on his desk at work.”

"No," Liv doesn't even look up from her painting. "Daddy has lots of painting, he doesn't need more."

Louis lifted his head to give Harry a hopeless look over Liv’s shoulder. Harry chuckled in response, giving him a thumbs up.

Harry knew his daughter and he knew that once she said no there was no way to change her mind. He didn't mind, though. He knew that her refusal to draw something for him was nothing personal, she just enjoyed doing her own thing. Louis, on the other hand, hadn't figured that out yet and Harry thoroughly enjoyed watching him try to reason with his daughter.

"One more drawing, Liv, and you're off to bed," Harry warned, giving her his sternest gaze.

She didn't even look up from the painting, her little fingers drawing a window on her house in red, "No."

“Yes, Liv. You know the drill.”

Harry let her finish her painting in peace and clapped his hands, “C’mon, off you go.”

Liv made an exaggerated show of sighing loudly but got up, dusting the invisible dust off her knees. “Okay.”

Harry excused himself to go get her ready for bed and left Louis to clear up the mess Liv had made. Once she was tucked in safely in bed, almost an hour later, Harry returned to find Louis lazily laying on the couch, scrolling on his phone.

“She’s lovely, you know?” Louis said softly, looking up from his phone upon hearing Harry’s return. “You’ve done good.”

Harry sat down next to him on the couch, “It’s mostly her mum, honestly. I see get her only on weekends, so she gets to do all of the parenting mostly.”

“What happened?” Louis mumbled after a second of silence. “How did you get divorced?”

“It just seemed like the next thing to do, really,” Harry began, voice nonchalant. “I mean I did really loved Jenny, her mum, we were great together and it just seemed like the next step to get married. But it wasn’t for us, once we got Liv it became even clearer. We loved each other but not in a way that was enough, if that makes sense,” He looked at Louis and could see him nodding, eyes on the floor. “There was no passion, it was easy to stay together but it just did not feel right.”

“So it was an easy divorce then?”

“No, I,…" Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, voice strained, "Once I realized it wasn't what I wanted I kind of just shut down, you know? I was so sad and bitter, and I did not know what to do. She had enough one day, I guess, and said it was time to leave. And I did."

He looked up to see Louis looking at him now, biting his lip, silently giving him space to continue. “I’ve changed since then. It took a while but I am better now, I look after Liv when I can and I try to be the best parent I can.”

“And you?”

“Me what?”

“Are you happy?”

Harry looked at his hands. “I’m not sad.”

“But is it enough?” Louis nervously asks, voice too loud for Harry’s ears.

“It is for now.”

  


-

  


Louis had not stayed the night, not that Harry had hoped, but had left around twelve with a quick goodnight. They had agreed to meet again whenever they had time, but the next few weeks had been so hectic at Harry’s work that he didn’t even have time to have proper meals let alone meet Louis. They had exchanged a few messages here and there, discussing little snippets of each other's days but Harry was longing to see him again. After that initial meeting, Harry had remembered how addictive Louis was and how much Harry loved spending time with him. Three weeks after that dinner at Harry's house, they arranged another one, this time outside.

Harry had not known what to wear and even though none of those meals had felt like a date, he still felt that they were getting somewhere, that that long distance between them was shortening with each word they said.

“How’s the pasta?”  
Louis took a second to wipe his mouth with the napkin before answering, “Good, yeah, it’s proper good. And your fish?”

Harry and Louis had once argued about fish and its ethicality. Well, Louis had had an argument with himself more like, as Harry could not care less about what eating fish had meant for the environment. But he had thoroughly enjoyed watching Louis get more and more flustered as he eagerly tried to explain his point. It had been no use, of course, because Harry was as stubborn as they come, but he had agreed with Louis for the sake of it and the argument was sealed once Harry had started small kisses all over Louis’ face.

“It’s good yeah.”

And they talked about work, about Louis’ upcoming sessions and Harry’s numerous projects. They talked until their plates were empty, the buzzing noise of the people around them a permanent sound in Harry’s ears.

“So what happened?” Louis asked and Harry didn’t have to look up from his just arrived piece of cake to know what he was talking about.

Harry sat back on his chair, gaze still fixed on his plate, one hand on his lap, the other playing with his napkin. He let out a deep breath and looked at Louis and found him already looking back. This is too much, Harry thought. But it was never going to feel right, was there? There was never going to be a right time to say that, any of it.

“When I came back, it just felt like the world was crashing on me. Everyone kept expecting things from me and I had to find a job and do all of those things that I had no clue how to do. And they were watching me, watching everything I was doing and commenting on it and I just didn’t know what to do. So I just left. I gathered all of my things and put the flat for rent and just moved to London.”

"But why did you have to leave me as well?" Louis whispered, eyes searching Harry's face. Harry could feel the pain behind the words but above all, he could hear the disappointment. It made his chest ache.

"You wanted so much from me, Lou," Harry uttered. "We made so many promises when we left Rome and I just couldn’t do it.”

“Didn’t you want to try?”

"I wanted, Lou, shit. I wanted so much but just knew I couldn't give you what you wanted."

“You managed to with Jenny, though, didn’t you?” Louis had its eyes locked at the plate in front of him, “She was enough?”

“No, no, shit, Lou- it wasn’t like that-“ Harry was blabbering, he knew he was but how could Louis even think that?

“It was though, wasn’t it?” And with that, Louis left. Harry’s voice begging him to stay echoed behind him.

  


-

  


It was meant to crash and burn at some point, Harry thought. He had wondered how Louis even managed to go so long without bringing it up, without demanding an explanation. If their places were reversed, Harry wasn't sure he would even want to see Louis, let alone hear anything he had to say. Harry couldn't blame him, though. He was the one who didn't answer the calls, the one who never returned any texts, the one who never reached out and never responded. The one who just vanished like what they had had meant nothing.

It wasn't true though, Harry knew as much. His feeling for Louis, their passion and their love, none of it was fake, none of it was made-up. Harry couldn't sleep for weeks after he left. All he could see, day and night, every time he closed his eyes even just to blink, all he could see were those blue eyes and the way they sparkled. In every moment of silence, he would hear his laugh in his ears, as if he were right next to him. Every time he would lay in bed, he could feel Louis’ arms around him.

None of it mattered though, not before and not now. Harry knew that he could never have been enough for Louis before and he certainly couldn't be enough for him now. That love Harry felt for him had started to suffocate him, he used to be able to feel it in his chest, that it was too big for him, what he felt was way much bigger than him, than what he could handle.

Harry had been lying on the sofa for an hour and a half when there was a soft knock on the door.

"I'm sorry, I was a dick," was the first thing that Louis said when Harry opened the door. Harry couldn't believe he's here. "You just really got on my nerves with your bullshit explanation and I wanted you so bad to just be honest so I left.” Louis closed his eyes for a brief moment to exhale and then they were piercing into Harry's. "Can I come in?"

Harry opened the door a bit wider for Louis to slip in.

“I didn’t expect you to show up,” Harry mumbled into the stretched silence. “What are you doing here?”

Louis shifted his weight, "I wanted to apologize, I guess. For, you know, running away." Harry could see him biting his lip, eyes darting around the room. "It was stupid of me, I should have stayed and listened to what you had to say."

Harry could only nod, he felt as if his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He wiped his palms into his pants, voice uneasy, “I’m sorry too. I should have talked with you when I saw you first, I should have told you everything,” he dared to look Louis in the eyes who was still avoiding his gaze. “But I was being honest, I swear, that’s what happened, Lou, you gotta believe me.”

“I just don’t understand.”

“You were enough, Lou, I swear to god, you were perfect the way you were. I just,” Harry faltered, eyes blurry. “I just didn’t know what to do.”

Louis brought his hand up to wipe his eyes. “I just don’t understand.”

Harry took a deep breath to steady himself, his head was spinning, his thoughts a fog.

“When I met you,” Harry begun, “I felt things I had never felt before. I felt such strong love for you, I wanted to be with you all the time, I didn’t know what to do when you were gone, I couldn’t do anything but think about you. When I left, when we said all of those things, I really did mean them, Lou. I really did, everything, all of it. I wanted to be with you, I wanted to be a part of your life and I wanted to make you happy,” He took a deep breath, and Louis finally met his eyes. “I wanted to make you so happy, Lou.”

“What happened then?” Louis croaked.

"I got scared. I got scared of everything I was feeling, and I thought, now that he's gone, what am I going to do? And I had nothing, Lou, I had nothing." Harry sobbed, tears finally spilling from his eyes. "I had no clue what to do, I didn't know what to do without you. I had had you only for a few weeks and suddenly I was completely lost without you. And it terrified me."

“I was scared too, you know. I loved you too.”

"I just didn't know what to do."

“So you just disappeared?” Louis whimpered.

Harry sobbed, “I didn’t know what to do.”

Suddenly Louis' eyes were stormy seas. "You could have talked to me, you know? You could have picked up the phone and told me all of those things. Told me how you feel so we could figure it out together. You think I wouldn't have understood? You think I wouldn't have cared?" Louis spat, voice croaking. "I would have done everything for you. Everything. You made all of those promises when you left and then just vanished like I never existed. Like I never mattered to you."

Harry sank on the sofa. "You mattered so much to me, so much and I was so scared that you'd leave once you knew what a mess I was, so I left. I thought it'd be easier to leave you than watch you leave me."

“And was it?”

"No," Harry rubbed his hands through his face. "It was hell. Leaving you was hell."

For a moment, the only thing that could be heard in the room was their heavy breathing, Harry still trying to contain his crying, Louis trying to contain the throbbing pain in his chest. Harry felt hopeless.

“Are you scared now?” Louis asked, voice careful.

Harry couldn’t stop staring at his hands. “Of what?”

“Being with me.”

“No.”

Harry knew it would take a long time for the pain in his chest to quieten and he was sure the one in Louis’ was going to be even harder to tame. But Louis was warmth, Louis was joy.

“Okay.” Louis exhaled, clearing his throat after.

Harry could feel Louis moving closer but he did not dare look up until Louis was kneeling beside him. When they locked eyes, Harry could see that Louis' ones were back to their clear blue color, but Harry could see the pain, Harry could feel all the suffering he had caused him. God, Harry hated himself.

Harry felt Louis leaning in, felt him hesitantly put his hand on his knee, his head was still throbbing. Louis’ lips were soft, unsure when they touched Harry’s. They felt familiar, just like Harry remembered from all of those years ago but they were different, firmer. Harry couldn't kiss back quickly enough, hand coming up to cup Louis' face. He could feel the stubble under his fingers and he softly rubbed his thumb over the skin. Harry felt Louis' mouth open and he hungrily slipped his tongue in it.

Suddenly, the kiss turned hungrier, sloppier. Harry could feel Louis' desire from the way he kissed, just as strong as his own. It had been so long since Harry had someone this close to him, even longer since he last had Louis and it was not enough, he doubted Louis was ever going to be close enough.

Harry felt Louis’ hands on his shoulder and suddenly he was pushing him back, knees on both sides of his hips. Once in Harry’s lap, Louis brought up his hands in his hair, fingers twisting his long locks, rubbing his scalp, pulling. Harry whimpered, hands coming up to grip Louis's ass through his jeans. God, Harry missed touching him.

Louis let go of his hair, hands coming down to unbutton Harry’s shirt, mouth hot and panting against Harry’s. Harry took the opportunity to separate their lips, planting kisses on the edge of Louis’ mouth, on his cheeks, down to his exposed neck. Louis arched, moving his head to give Harry better access and he took it, biting and licking Louis’ neck. Hearing Louis’ tiny whimpers on top of him, feeling him struggle to concentrate enough to undo his buttons, Harry felt like he was on fire.

When the last button of Harry’s shirt came undone and Louis ran his cold palms against Harry's newly exposed skin, Harry stuttered and sucked harder on the spot right where Louis' neck met his collarbone. Pulling away, Harry pulled Louis' shirt with both hands, Louis rising his arms to help him to take it off faster. Harry took a second to admire Louis' chest, not as toned as it had once been but just as beautiful. Harry could see the new ink covering the side of his ribs but before he had a chance to think more about it, Louis was rubbing down, grinding his hips on Harry’s and Harry sucked in a breath. Suddenly, his mouth was back on Louis', hungrily kissing, swallowing the tiny noises Louis was making. Harry's hands started working on Louis's belt, unbuckling it and undoing his button.

Louis pulled away, lips shiny and red, and before Harry could protest for the loss, he was sliding backwards, off the couch and on his knees. Harry could see Louis’ eyes darken as he pushed Harry’s legs to open and moved closer, nose nuzzling his bulge. Harry had to close his eyes to resist the urge to thrust up, desperate for more. He could feel Louis’ hands unzipping him and grabbing the waistband of his pants to try to take them off. Harry willingly moved up so Louis’ can slide them off easily, taking them off in one motion. The next second was agonizing and Harry could not feel Louis’ touch anywhere, so he opened his eyes. Louis was looking up at him, big blue eyes piercing into his, tongue out right next to the outline of his erection and the moment their eyes locked, Louis moved forward, tongue coming up to lick Harry.

“Fuck” and Harry’s hands were on Louis’ hair, pulling and twisting, urging him to pull closer, to touch harder. Louis obliged, tongue licking along Harry’s clothed erection, hand coming up to grab him. Harry hissed, squeezing his eyes shut, it was too already too much and Louis hadn’t even properly touched him.

“Please, Lou,” Harry whimpered, and Louis was sliding his briefs in one swift motion.

Harry moaned when the chill air hit his exposed skin, opening his eyes the second he realized he had closed them, not wanting to miss the show Louis was putting on for him. Louis was a mess – his hair was sweaty and ruffled, lips pink and bruised but Harry found him so strikingly beautiful that he had to slowly let out a breath to steady himself. God, Harry wanted to wreck him. Louis untangled Harry's hands from his hair and brought them on the couch, giving Harry that look and _yes,_ Harry was going to be good for him. And then Louis was reaching out, grabbing Harry’s base with one hand, another coming up to hold his hips down and swallowing him with one quick motion, eyes still locked with Harry’s. It was a blur after that, the feel of Louis’ warm mouth around him, the feel of his tongue and his head. Louis was working fast, licking and sucking just like Harry liked him, keeping him still with one hand on his hips so Harry could not buckle up no matter how much he tried. And then Louis was moving the hand that was on Harry’s hip and bringing it to one of Harry’s hands on the sofa, catching his fingers in his and bringing them to his head.

“Yes,” Harry hissed. _Yes,_ he knew what that meant, permission.

And Harry was bucking up and Louis was just taking it, mouth open wide, eyes closed. That was too good, Harry thought, and he knew he wouldn’t last very long, he never had with Louis. Harry closed his eyes, whimpering at the feeling of Louis, at the thought of _yes, yes, he was wrecking Louis, he was fucking Louis’ mouth, Louis was letting him fuck his mouth_. And then there were delicate fingers touching his balls and Harry was spreading his legs wider. Opening his eyes, he could see Louis’ wrecked face, taking him every time he thrusted up and he could see him trailing his fingers down. He felt a loud moan ripping out of his chest, back arching as he felt a finger press up against his hole.

Louis pulled back, Harry immediately stopping his movement to let him go. “Lube?” Louis rasped.

“Bedroom drawer,” Harry whimpered, feeling hot all over, from the sudden warmth around his cock and the fucked way Louis’ voice sounded.

Louis got up and Harry could see the outline of his hard cock against his trousers and he could imagine it, big and red and leaking. Groaning, Harry focused on steading his breathing, hand twitching in his lap, desperately wanting to touch himself. Then Louis was back and Harry could focus on his chest, hard and flushed. Louis got on his knees again, dropping the lube and condoms on the floor next to him, a smile tugging on his lips.

“You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” Louis whispered, awe clear on his face. Harry smiled lazily.

He settled down again, nuzzling his nose softly at the base. And then he was looking up at Harry again, tongue darting out and licking up along the shaft to the tip, pretty lips wrapped around it, sucking. And just like that, Harry was back to the moaning mess he had been a few minutes before and his hands were coming up to grab at Louis' hair and pulling him down. Louis let him, swallowing him whole and as Harry thrusted up, he felt a slick finger circling his rim. And he whined, high in his throat, back arching up, eyes opening wide to stare at the ceiling above him.

Louis softly pushed his finger inside, the slickness making it slide in easily to the second knuckle, knocking the wind out of Harry. And Harry was a mess, writhing and twisting as Louis started to slowly move his finger, cock still in his mouth. He could no longer keep the rhythm of his thrusts, but he was still feeling the warmth of Louis' mouth around him, licking at the tip. Louis had started to move his finger faster and once he started feeling Harry loosen up around him, he added a second one.

Harry could feel himself getting closer to the edge. “I’m so close, Lou,” he whined.

And then Louis’ mouth disappeared, and his fingers stilled. Harry writhed on the sofa seeking friction.

“You still like getting filled up, kitten?” Louis asked breathlessly.

Harry could only groan, nodding furiously.

“Turn around then,” Louis ordered.

And Harry was up in a second, taking off the rest of his already open shirt. "How do you want me?"

“On your knees, face down,” Louis rasped, and Harry could see him taking off his pants, cock springing free, hard and big just like he remembered.

Harry turned around and getting on the couch, burying his head in the seat, ass up and legs spread.

He could feel Louis getting behind him, could hear the condom opening and the slick sound of the lube as he rubbed his erection. Harry pushed back, spreading his legs as far as he could without falling off the couch. Louis let out a small chuckle at Harry’s eagerness. He could see Harry’s pink hole, small and spasming, begging him to fill it up. But Louis knew better and knew that Harry wouldn’t be ready without three fingers prepping him first, so he did just that. He pushed them past the red rim in one slow dragging motion, enjoying Harry’s obscene moan. He thrusted his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, the slick sound of the lube making his cock throb.

And then Harry was begging, high pitched cries of _please, please, oh god,_ and Louis could only obey. He pulled his fingers out, Harry whining in protest, shuffled forward and dragged his head along the crack. He let himself enjoy the feeling, enjoy the obscene way Harry looked all spread out like that for him, ready to take whatever Louis wanted to give him. And the next time his cock caught on the rim, Louis slowly pushed forward, letting Harry’s body swallow him. They moaned together, Harry bawling his hands in fists next to his head, one hand gripping the end of the couch. Once Louis had bottomed out, he stopped, one hand coming to caress Harry’s back, hoping to ease the pain.

"Fuck, baby," Harry grunted. "So full."

And with that Louis was pulling back out and slamming back in, hands on Harry’s hips. Harry was just taking it, moaning and writhing, pushing his ass back whenever he could, meeting Louis’ thrusts. He felt as if he was suffocating, stuffed with Louis’ cock, pushed deeper and deeper into the couch and Louis dived into him. Two more thrusts, two more brushes of his prostate and Harry was spilling on the couch, back arching, white streaks marking the couch. Feeling Harry’s spasm, feeling him pulling even deeper into him, Louis was coming too, filling up the condom, curse words on his .

Louis offered to clean them up after that, bringing a damp cloth for Harry who was lazily watching him from the couch, eyes sleepy.

“You alright?” Louis asked, eyes soft.

Harry nodded, lips tugging into a toothy smile, “That’s a bit weird, isn’t it?”

Louis chuckled. “Yeah, a bit,” He sat next to Harry, hand coming up to sweep the hair out of his face. "Could get used to it though."

“Me too,” Harry whispered.

Harry knew things weren’t going to be easy, there was a lot between them that they needed to talk about, a lot they needed to figure out. But he was ready to stay this time, ready to face whatever was coming their way.

Harry had a company that he loved so much, he worked with people he (mostly) liked, he had a beautiful daughter and now he had Louis.

And this time, he was not letting him go.

**Author's Note:**

> So how many three’s did you spot?  
>   
> thank you for reading xx


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